A Daydream Come True
by FelisMargarita
Summary: Midst an interrogation exercise with Nick, Greg finds his mind begin to wander to places meant for bedroom rather than the workplace. And with Grissom watching every single move, release seemed impossible, -or that's what he thought. NickGreg. Smut.


I was half-sure that there were words that tumbled from his mouth, sugar- coated in that sweet half-accent. Unfortunately, my thoughts were rather over thin lips, curled back in a tight frown rather than on his words. They were fuchsia, -no, rose or a cotton-candy pink in color. One could only wonder the flavour of Nick Stokes' lips, and I did more than anything. It made me crave the taste of them, pressed furiously against mine in a rabid kiss. His hands would then tangle in the fabric of the faded-grey t-shirt that hung over my body, demanding to have it torn off and used to decorate the floor. And after-

"Greg?" Those lips thinned back into an emotionless line, making me realize that he had stopped talking. My eyes trailed upwards, offering a distracted and innocent smile to the Texan.

"You called, Nicky?"

"I- Never mind. Just pay attention to me, damn it." A weak smile kissed his square face before he went back to babbling some nonsense about how my finger prints were on the murder weapon of Mr. LaCroix. It was the name of the person that I had killed in this questioning exercise. Nick just had to get me to talk when he proved how I had done it, which couldn't be too hard, since it was I who he was partnered to. That was a fault on Grissom's part.

Nick Stokes could do much less than wink those pretty little brown eyes at me, and I would lay the darkest secrets of my heart at his feet. He has short black hair that frames a gorgeous and masculine face. Nick was blessed with a strong neck, broad shoulders and a body that a Greek god would kill for. I absolutely had fallen in love with this man from the moment I'd laid eyes on him. The very thought of me being able to completely conceal that I had killed a man from anybody, by itself, was laughable. And the person interrogating me being my dearest Nick did not make my situation any better. Two -negatives, don't make a positive, -unless you're in algebra. But I digress. When you have the delectable CSI standing in front of you, glaring you down like at any moment he'd have you naked on the table under him was mind-boggling. Maybe that was my wishful thinking. My brain instead of focusing on piecing together complete sentences, focused on the tight black shirt on his chest, and the way his ass swayed as he paced past me.

Even so, I would say I was doing a fair job of hiding away how I'd stabbed this poor, fictional man in his garage whilst he work on the car he stole from me. As well, I was also doing a damn good job at hiding the bulge in my tight jeans from behind my end of the table. I placed my arms delicately in my lap, leaning forward with little interest in what he was saying.

"Greg, your fingerprint was on the weapon. How did it get there?" The slightly taller man looked down at me, a disapproving look on his cheeks. He wanted an answer obviously a lot faster than I was giving one. "Don't say that it was the magical sock gnomes that steal your car keys either. You've used that already."

A small laugh bubbled up from my core, remembering one of the questions he had asked to receive my answer. I shook my head, jokingly responding to him: "Damn, what can I say now? You caught me officer."

"I did?"

"Yes, it was the Tooth-Llama that must've inked my hand and put my fingerprint on that knife." I uttered, wearing a wild smile. It grew when the boy began to laugh along with my muffled giggles of delight. That deep laugh sent shivers down my spine, seemingly migrating to my forgotten member. My eyes darkened, irritated about how I couldn't jerk myself off without anybody getting scarred. I had to remember that Grissom was behind the one-way glass, watching our every move, and listening to our every word. My gaze fell away from my Texan to the mirror, waving in spite of how annoyed I was, having to wait until he left.

"Focus, Sanders." He slammed his hands down on the table, demanding my utmost attention. A shiver tumbled along my vertebrae, and I found myself practically fidgeting in delight. I smiled brightly up at him, which slightly altered the angered face he wore, to one of confusion. Nick drawled out slowly, almost as if afraid of the answer, "Why are you smiling?"

"You used my last name." I said softly, not realizing how dreamy my voice sounded. I loved the way he flashed his authority over me, as masochistic as that sounds. My hands wove together, resting them across my lap, trying to piece together the self-control I knew was crumbling away. I could feel all of my being want to throw me over the table to Nick, and if it not be obvious to him at this point, I may as well paint a banner and paste it across the wall adjacent to him.

Nick frowned more, leaning his sweet, sculpted body across the table to get in my face about it: "Damn it Sanders, I want answers!"  
Confrontational, are we now dear Nicky? I practically purred in my head, meeting his sweet brown eyes with my own amused stare. He was so close, I could pretty much lean my head up and steal myself a kiss. I decided against it, because as much as I wanted his lips on mine, I appreciated seeing him every day. My job would be more valuable than a simple kiss. Instead, I backed away, sinking into the back of my chair. "You want to know what happened that night?"

"I want just want the truth! Did you, or did you not, kill Mr. LaCroix!"

"You can't handle the truth." I whispered in a deadly tone, my words dipped in a sweet, enticing poison. Inside, I couldn't be more than pleased, crushing whatever dominance that Nick found in the interrogation. Now, he was playing my game since the tables were turned. "I want a lawyer."

"You'll get one." Slowly, he pulled his body away from mine and back to his end of the table. A contented smirk kissed those beautiful lips, his smile aimed at me almost tauntingly. He wanted to remind me of how close I was to claiming that mouth as my own, and he wanted to make me regret my decision of clamming up. I growled a little. Nick merely laughed, turning away from me to go report to Grissom.

I was granted the private privilege of watching that sweet ass walk away from me. His hips swayed, taking each step with a newfound sense of self-pride. And he looked so good in those casual, tight denim-jeans. The sweet CSI turned back to me at the door, wondering if I wanted to leave with him. It took me a moment to pull my gaze away from him, having been caught stone-cold busted. I shook my head, for I had another issue that I had to deal with. You see, as much as I wanted to I could not stand, not at the moment at least. He nodded a little, and with a click of the door, the Texan had left me in the interrogation room by my lonesome. I glared back at the mirror at my reflection where I knew Grissom was smirking his soon-to-be retired ass off.

Good, I couldn't wait until that man left me alone, in peace. On my life, I swear I had nightmare about him and his creepy-crawlies, wiggling into my head or infecting me with some kind of fungus that would eat my foot off. He should be glad that I didn't press charges for assault, or attempted assassination by mildew. Once he was gone, I could rest at ease a little more, and perhaps feel free to let myself day dream a bit. My eyes shut, imagining a steamy shower-room. Perhaps it would be the one supplied to us here at the lab, that really, nobody uses or has used for the last six years. It would suffice for the daydreaming purpose.

_I stood in front of the shower room, noting how the normally cool metal of the door handle was warm to the touch, as if somebody had stood in my exact position and held this same door handle in contemplation. From there, that person would've had two options: back away from the showers slowly, and punish his or her self for thinking that they dare use the room in total; or, the person could've entered and taken a shower. Now, normally I would have ripped my hand away and dove for the nearest antibacterial wash, but I had to give myself some kind of reasoning to enter the room. So, we'll say that I forgot to pay my bills and they had shut my water off._

_I pulled the handle back, letting the hot steam of the room fly out and hit me like a tidal wave. And pushing back any morality I had, I would then enter the room and peer around the corner into the steam clouds, seeing some kind of naked or stripping woman. But, that's not going to happen is it? I sighed weakly, entering the room, preparing to be scarred by a naked Catherine or something. And trust me when I say this, I've seen that one too many times for comfort. And-_

_As I turned the corner, I felt my heart stop beating. I was frozen like a deer caught in a truck's headlights, looking at the embodiment of everything beautiful and arousing in front of me. A tanned body in nothing more than those beautiful denim-jeans stood in front of me. His arms stretched above his head, just having had finished tugging the black shirt away from his torso. His back was exposed to me, the same delicious golden-brown as his arms and face were. It was more than I could wish for, for I hadn't seen much else of Nick. _

_The breath in my throat caught, contemplating if I died in that explosion and was now experiencing my heaven. I still couldn't bring myself to move, as if my feet were cemented to the blue tile of the room. I couldn't bring myself to even make a sound. The only thing that I actually could do was hold my breath and stare at the man in front of me._

_Then, those large hands dropped down to his jeans, inching those down slowly. And-_

I flinched, letting my body curl over itself, legs pressing together a bit tighter. My arising problem begged to be touched, to be stroked and toyed with. I could only sit in aroused agony, glaring at anything that dare catch my eye. First, I glared at the button on the table that drew the shutters closed, hiding me away from the onlookers on the other side of my mirror. Then, I glared at the lock on that thick, steel door, -that sweet, soundproof door. Finally, I glared at the person standing in the door, tall and-

My head shot up, looking up at my intruder startled by the sudden appearance. For a moment my brown eyes could only see, but my brain couldn't register who had walked in. It wasn't until he had spoke, in that familiar Texan half-drawl, did it click. I had to half-pinch myself to actually make sure that I wasn't still caught in a day dream. The door shut behind him, and I heard the click of the lock echo through the metallic chamber called the interrogation room. He let it fall silent again before he spoke: "Hey, Greggo? Y'all doing okay? You've been in here for a good half hour."

"A half hour?" I whistled to myself, trying to snap out of my current aroused state and back to the bouncy blond idiot that most knew me as. A lop-sided grin kissed my cheeks, almost as if I had a smile on but it couldn't quite qualify as one. All I knew was it most probably tinged with the lust pouring out of every orifice of my body. "Wow, I didn't really notice I was in here that long."

"Well, you have been." Nick said, falling into the chair across from me. Concern knit itself across the elder's brow, making me simply want to kiss it away. I cursed myself out, silently of course. One of those muscular arms tumbled across the table, gripping my hand. I froze, startled by the sudden contact which he seemed to push aside without second thought. His voice sang to me in sweet velvet tone. "I'm a little concerned. I didn't think y'all could sit still for more than a minute."

"I can sit still Nick." A moment later I finally drew together the courage to slowly piece a few words together to form even the most half-assed of sentences. Nick laughed, shaking his head.

"I- I don't know. I think I went kind of hard on you." He said softly, gently toying with the back of my hand with the tip of his thumb. I could practically fly: he was holding my hand, almost like we were lovers. I let my gaze fall back to those velvet lips that I was half-sure words were falling out of. Those fuchsia, dull-rose, or cotton-candy pink lips that I wanted pressed against mine so fucking bad. Those lips that I couldn't figure out what succulent taste they would be. I craved them, pressed furiously against mine in rabid kiss, his fingers twisted in the fabric of my faded gray shirt-

Something in that moment snapped, if it be the way his legs crossed and accidently bumped into mine, or when honey-brown met my own tender brown eyes. I didn't know. The sound of metal scraping over metal filled the room, and I couldn't tell if it was my chair that flew out from under me and hit the ground, or Nick's chair that fell back after I had pounced on him. I can't remember a time where I jumped higher, because I fucking cleared that table. His eyes widened, going from having a pleasant but rather one-sided conversation, to finding himself on the ground and myself on top of him. Nick hit the back of his head pretty hard, but I was too lust-driven to really care about nurturing him at the moment. He yelped out to me: "G-greg! What the hell are you-"

The last bit was muffled when I finally caught those beautiful lips with mine. A sweet taste of rain danced under my tongue, although it was for only a second or two. Nick pulled away from me, rolling my body away from his. He looked at me, rubbing the back of his injured head tenderly. As I lay on the ground, looking up at the man I had practically assaulted, I realized what I had done. My brown eyes were full of apology, but, he quickly shut that down. One of his muscular arms stretched out to touch the leg of the interrogation table, and with a click, the shutters flew down. His movements were masked in the sound of the blinds settling, and in the next moment, I felt his weight on top of mine. The taste of rain shattered all of my senses, and my body moved on its accord. My arms tugged his larger, fuller body on top of mine, demanding that I have more of the delectable Texan above me. He held himself up with one arm, his other hand fisting my shirt greedily, demanding it decorate the bare floor.

It slid off with surprising ease, leaving me half naked under him. His lips curled up into a hot smirk against mine before he pulled off, tracing wet kisses along my jaw line and down my slender neck. Those kisses gradually got harder, slowly turning into nips and bites that left angry red marks over my neck and my collar bone. It was by the time that hot mouth drew one of my nipples into his mouth did I release a hot and wet sound. I mewled, raking my fingers over the fabric of Nick's clothed back. Disappointment rippled through my core, wanting it off. I tugged on it to make my point clear.

"Alright, I'll take it off." His voice slipped out in a hot whisper, his Texan drawl getting thicker the more passionate he grew. I could feel my member twitch with anticipation, watching him finger the hem of his shirt before tugging it over his head. It was more than the day dream had given me: that delicious tan was evenly airbrushed across him and his washboard abs, darkened nipples, and the gentle 'v' that black chest hair formed over his body. He smirked, sitting before me, himself ready to pounce: "But, y'all got to strip yourself down now."

I nodded a silent comply, letting my skinny hands falling down my body to struggle with the tight jeans hugging my thin legs. My body seemed suddenly very ugly and pale, compared to this Adonis of a man. I curled into myself almost naturally, which earned a whine of protest from my boy toy. Strong hands gently flattened me back out, pulling me out by my legs and arms. Then, those strong hands fell up, cupping my face softly and sweetly. He left a kiss of reassurance over my lips. The worries that riddled my nerves melted away. His hands fell from my chin down my bare body to tie with the boxers barely restraining the weeping boner underneath. I drew in a shaking breath of anticipation, waiting for the sweet and familiar friction. Taunting fingers danced over the aching flesh, making me arch up into him. A hot mewl slipped from my lips, begging more from him.

Nick agreed quickly, letting that large hand slide under the last bit of fabric, before adding it to the pile on the ground. A weak blush kissed my pale cheeks, feeling exposed. My own hands tumbled down his full body to rest at his waistline, forcefully pushing them down. I could feel a hardness press against my leg. A quip tumbled from my lips absent-mindedly: "Wow, things really are bigger down south."

"You know it." The words slurred with lust fell from his wonderful mouth. I caught it with my own, letting my senses be peaked by his sweet rain. Warm hands tumbled down our bodies, mashed together, to remove the pants and boxers that hugged my lover. His lips barely left mine if only to breath for a moment, if I tried to pull away he tugged me right back in. Nick didn't want me to see him yet, and that didn't sit right with me. I was going to see all of him damn it. And with my next move, and my new motive, I was damn sure that I was going to have all of him.

I let my body slide down his, kissing wherever my lips could latch onto: his neck, his shoulder, his toned stomach, his pelvic bone. A Cheshire smile touched my lips as I reached my destination, coming face to face with his one-eyed soldier. Brown eyes fluttered up words, looking at Nick's flustered face, before going back to his hardened member. My thin hands grabbed his cock at the base, taking the head into my mouth. I shivered a little at the unfamiliar taste, but after pushing away the impulse to spit him back out, I took more of him in. A hot moan fell from those pretty lips, his strong fingers burying themselves in the mess of dirty-blond hair atop my head. Nick tugged me in, making sure that I had as much of him as I could. What I couldn't take, I toyed with in my hands.

My eyes shut, just moving and sucking in the harmony and rhythm of the occasional moan and the rare shiver. My heart beat became my metronome, keeping a steady but ever-quickening pace. Time seemed to lose all meaning to me, simply focused on pleasuring my lover. It was all but the final groan that made me realize how long I was down there, as a sudden liquid saltiness shot into my mouth. Gagging was my first reflex, but I forced it away to drink it down greedily. I rested there, giving a final slow and long suck before pulling off, producing a wet pop.

"Sweet Jesus, Sanders." Nick proclaimed after a few moments of peace and quiet. I let my eyes slowly flutter open, looking up at my lover. A lazy smile kissed my lips, feeling that same and familiar ripple of want shoot through my veins.

I purred out, "You used my last name."

He could merely nod, and kiss my forehead as if in disbelief of what had happened. It was obvious to me that he was still coming down from his orgasm. I just didn't count on how quick Mr. Stokes could recover.

I blinked once, and found myself tugged onto his lap, riding his half-erect member. It grew hard pressed against my backside, and I could feel it press against my puckered entrance. A shiver wracked my body, holding onto him in attempts to channel out how much this was going to hurt un-lubed. But after a moment of nothing happening, my gaze fell to Nick asking a silent question.

"I'm not stupid Greg." He slurred again, reaching across from him to the other leg of the table where the black back-pack he toted to work sat, unnoticed. I must've disregarded it at the initial shock of seeing him. Curiously, I watched as he unzipped it, pulling a little blue-capped bottle from it. I blinked once, letting my mouth drop to the point where it could've actually fallen off. "I know you've been watching me, and I know you're not a virgin to this. I watched the (s)AINT video, Sanders. Plus, you-"

I dare not hide the amusement in my voice: "You watched the Marilyn video? You're a dirty, dirty man."

"At least I wasn't attempting to lick the make-up off of him." Nick slurred, kissing me square on the lips as to silence me. The kiss was short and chaste, but left butterflies in my stomach. The face he pulled after he had tugged away made them dance around more, -it was a face that screamed how turned on he was. "But, I admit. I did get to watch you jerk off, and that was hot. And aside, you've been hiding that pretty little erection from me during the interrogation. I knew you wanted this as much as I have."

I opened my mouth to say something but, it was stopped by the click of the lid being popped off. He squirted a rather generous amount of the clear, gelatinous substance onto his hand, smiling deviously at me. That hand cupped over his second erection, rubbing down the sensitive flesh. My body temperature spiked, mind flooding clear of anything else aside the fact that my Nicky was jacking himself off underneath of me. Moments must have gone by before I was abruptly called back to my senses when two slick fingers glided over my entrance, before slipping inside. I moaned hotly, arms curling around him slowly in a tight embrace. My lips met his, moaning and mewling for him to move. He pulled off and out instead, "Sanders, this is only my hand."

I doubted I could've turned pinker at that point. Merely laughing and kissing my head, Nick took a hold of his own large member, pressing it against my hole. I shivered, feeling the head slip inside, followed by the rest of him, little by little. Unable to hold back anymore, I kissed him again with a fire unknown to either me or him. I felt full, and I felt complete. All I needed was for a movement, a friction. And when I got it, silver stars shot before my eyes and white-fire crawled through my veins. I swore with every breath that my insides were melting. I held him tighter, moaning out his name almost desperately. A silent reply to my request came to me when he gripped my hips, beginning to bounce me along his hot member. I held onto him with everything that was left of me, fingers raked along the bare and sweaty, golden skin of his back. Everything around us seemed to melt away to absolutely nothing, a place where only Nick and I remained. Everything that I felt, I heard, or I saw was accented to a point where this was either heaven, or a really, really good acid trip. Every breath we took melted together. Every touch sent electricity through the other.

I mumbled breathlessly against the shell of his ear, making him shiver in retort: "N-Nick, you have no fucking idea how long I've been waiting for this."

"I- I have an idea Greg, baby." He murmured back to me, kissing my neck softly. I mewled a little, holding him a bit tighter. Nick merely whispered his one request, which probably was more a demand than anything. "Cum with me?"

"Fuck yes." I said, letting the man flip me over. My hands gripped the legs of the table concreted to the ground, letting a muted screech tumble out of my lips. At this point, I had no mind left in me to really care if anybody heard me, and apparently, neither did the Texan. A hot hand gripped over my weeping erection, beginning to pump in co-ordinance with his deep thrusts. My knuckles were white, gripping whatever I could get my hands on. And I swore, not even a minute passed before the silver stars completely clouded my vision, and the white fire consumed my body. I came harder than I had ever cum before, with any person, male or female alike.

Nick thrust inside a few times before he came as well, pulling himself out of me. I whined a little, feeling emptiness ripple through the pool of content. Nonetheless, he laid me down on my stomach before lying himself down at my side. Strong arms circled my small waist, tugging me into his god-like body. I nestled into him greedily, sighing with finality. Silence soon swept through the interrogation room, not an awkward silence, rather a warm and comforting silence. It was welcomed on both parts, for a minute or two at least. It was I who had the nerve to finally break it. I kissed the flat skin over where his heart was: "Thank you Nick."

"Don't thank me Darlin'," He purred kissing the top of my hair, stroking it down a little. I shook my head in retort, hands flying up to fix it. I stuck my tongue out at him before looking away pouty. Nick only laughed, "Hey, don't be like that. Y'all liked it as much as I did."

The pout soon tumbled off of my face, nuzzling back into him: "Oh, I liked it more than you can imagine Nick."

The Texan let off a warm and hardy laugh, craning his neck down to catch my lips over again. And again, the soothing taste and feel of rain swept over me, letting me melt in his arms. I kissed back sweetly, pouring out all the weeks of watching, waiting and wanting him only to have feeling after feeling returned to me. It was enough to get me a little choked up inside. I tugged off of his lips to simply stare deep into those deep, brown eyes. My finger tips danced over his square jaw line, his cheek, weaving up to his temple and into his hair. I touched him lovingly, which returned back by tugging me into his chest, stroking the top of my head.

Three words danced behind my lips, but as if he knew that I was too frightened to say he, he replied: "I love you Sanders. But, we better go before somebody breaks the door down."

A strained laugh escaped my lips, slightly bruised from all the frivolous kissing during our hot sex. I did get my wish though: rabid kisses, our clothes decorating the floor, and some hot sex. But, most of all: I got my Nick, and he got me. I stole a gaze over at him, pulling his pants and boxers on. I took the hint, slightly straining to do so, but I eventually got everything on. We helped each other look like nothing had happened except that maybe we had a small fight, and a few hits were thrown. And before we opened the door, he kissed me gently, fingering the cool, metal door handle.

With a twist of his wrist, the door was unlocked at the door swung open, revealing a very concerned team of CSI. Everybody had gathered: Warrick, who looked about ready to beat my ass into the ground for hurting his best friend, Grissom who wanted us both on unpaid leave for a week, Catherine who wanted my ass beat up, Sara who was more on my side than anything since she was pretty much an older sister to me, and even Archie who simply want me back in the lab to help him out.

Nick smiled weakly, stepping out first to be attacked by Warrick with a barrage of questions about what had happened. The Texan merely brushed it off, saying we got into a heated argument. Grissom then stepped in to reprimand him for fighting, but he reassured him that no fighting was done because I was still walking. My brown eyes rolled, wondering how he could get such a big head inside his ten-gallon head. But, -by the way I semi-limped out, I suppose he had his points. Catherine upon hearing that no punches were thrown at me, slipped away wordlessly with Archie. The trio –Nick, Warrick and Grissom- all left to do CSI things. Only Sara was left.

I looked at her with a lopsided smile, the same one that couldn't quite qualify as a smile yet. Her face darkened, asking me timidly: "Hey Kid, what happened in there?"

With a smile, I looked at the female with not-so-innocent brown eyes. Now, she knew something had happened in there and she wouldn't stop pestering me until I blabbed. I didn't mind however. I could tell near everything to her. But...

-I smirked hotly, and with a breathy sigh as I past, I merely brushed her aside. "Sara, what happened in there was a day dream come true."


End file.
